Sword of Justice, Sword of Pain
by MechanicalRosebud
Summary: Jetstream Sam was a maniac, the only man who dared called him Raiden in battle while everyone sang to the name of 'Jack'. He was a maniac, a skilled deranged man who he would defeat. Even if it meant destroying everything else in the process.
1. The Meeting

I do not own any of the characters from the Metal Gear franchise and do not claim to own them either. Though the idea and such of the story are mine. JJKMagic, my lovely beta, this couldn't have been possible without you! Please leave comments that are helpful criticism and not just random hate, since that will be ignored/deleted. This is Jetstream Sam and Raiden, the rating will stay as M as there will be some explicit-ness later on.

Otherwise ENJOY!

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Protect N'mani. That had been his mission and as the man burst with blood darker than any man's he'd seen before, he was heavy with the realization of his failure. Peace had been fleeting and now it was gone with the blood-soaked tip a blade killing a man that had given a war-torn Africa hope.

His vision was red with rage. He rushed toward the bald murderer but was halted and staggered at the sudden block, at the man whose interest seemed to be everywhere but in the last few moments that had occurred. The man with wild hair and that smirking, openly mocking expression at his inability to save his charge only fueled his rage, his desire to cut them down where they stood.

And he voiced the first words he would ever utter to Raiden, "Mind if I cut in?" They added to his despair in the hopeless attempt to save N'mani and sent a bout of hot rage through Raiden's already heated body. The adrenaline of battle pushing him on to attack and throw all hesitancy away to cut down whoever stood in his way.

That was the first time they met.

"He's all yours, Sam."

The first time Raiden heard his name and the first in a long time he would taste defeat. He was foolish, naïve to charge the lax, older man with the red blade.

The smooth, easy way the man spoke as he fought, as he easily parried all of Raiden's blows should have been his first clue.

The cybernetic man had moved like nothing Raiden had seen before, every move had been countered. Every step forward he had gained he was cut back several more until he had been a staggering, bloodied mess.

"Now, now don't be shy." The sly bastard moved as quickly as he spoke, not showing the slightest unhinged motion of being on a moving train, as Raiden's footing staggered just the slightest bit.

"Is that all you've got?" Raiden felt the hot rage of battle driving him to strike down the quick-footed bastard. It blinded him as every slash, every strike was countered and given back to him ten-fold.

"I see, you deny your weapon its true purpose." The smirk slid into a thin line, an expression that trailed to dark eyes absorbed in thought and absolute contemplation, "It yearns to bathe in the blood of your enemies, but you hold it back." Shoulders dragged in a sigh, a focused sound of disappointment akin to a father seeing his son steal what he could have earned.

It was scathing to receive such a treatment as if he, Raiden, knew nothing of the blade in his hands.

"My sword is a tool of justice!" The hearty laugh only served to drive him into a frenzy, his grip tight on his blade eager to show that cocky, smug bastard that he WOULD destroy him. Anger and pride had always led Raiden to haste. A costly mistake.

How had he been defeated so easily? It was disgusting how that man could smile and mock him, even as he was cut down to nothing. Limbs were taken from him with an ease that struck fear into Raiden's system. How could anyone move so fast? So damn fluid without him landing a single strike?!

That man, with the dark eyes, moved faster than anything or anyone else that Raiden had encountered. Not since the battle with the Patriots had he felt such a burning anger, a vicious emotion that almost tore him to shreds, to nothing but a raging, killing machine.

Even his right eye was taken to leave him staggering as warnings blurred his vision. Everything was failing inside of him, loss of function and rationality. He still longed to cut down the man who taunted him with the red blade of electric fire…He would defeat him even if it cost him his life.

"This is what happens when you bring a tool to a swordfight," the red blade seemed to sing as it hovered above Raiden eager to deliver the killing blow.

"It's over." The slightest hint of disappointment, a vague motion of displeasure of a fight not really begun was whispered in his tone. It burned to think he could not even meet his enemy's standards, a sharp cut to wounds that had already rendered him useless.

A single, blue eye was struck motionless by the red blade swaying to end his life. The figure standing triumphantly above him as he desperately held onto the train with his one remaining hand.

For a brief moment, he was afraid, truly afraid that he was going to die and that this man would do it. Raiden had taken down a UMG(Unmanned Metal Gear) not even moments before and this single, cybernetic man would do what it couldn't in less than half the time it took him to defeat it.

"Lucky devil," Sam's face slid into a mocking grin as he tilted his head toward the convoys racing along the path and the heavy beat of a helicopter filled the air. Grabbing onto the retrieving hook, he left Raiden hanging onto the train, systems failing as the last thing that filled his vision was that smirking ass disappearing with the helicopter in a flash of red flares.

For a moment, in Raiden's eyes, that man with the red blade seemed like the warriors of old. Ever ready to bathe in the blood of his enemy and drink in the ecstasy of battle. For the barest second, Raiden was lost in the dangerous beauty of it and it slipped away as if it had never existed at all.

The first time they fought, Raiden lost his arm and his right eye. He had rushed into battle, into the man's blade and lightning-fast reflexes that far surpassed his own.

_I'll...kill him…_

"…Sam…" Blood thick in his throat and copper heavy on his tongue, he couldn't recall if he really spoke that word, THAT man's name.

Raiden's vision disappeared in the eclipsing light of the sun. His mind clear in his intent to kill that man with the smirking expression and the dark, mocking eyes burned into his thoughts even as he slipped into painless darkness.


	2. The Building Obsession

Hey Guys! Thanks for sticking around! I was in a bit of a depressive funk which is why this chapter took so long. This one is mainly just a filler between the fight between Sam/Raiden and his second mission! Much love to those of you reading this and actually liking it! Please leave any reviews/criticisms of my story, but no flames please. Much love to my beta, JJKMagic for checking up on me and helping make this story what it is! Enjoy!

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He was used to this by now. A weightless emptiness that encompassed his mind as his body was put back together. Enhancements, alterations, upgrades and everything else his body required could be fixed. He was akin to a toy able to withstand so much damage, to be taken apart and put back together with the same flow.

His mind was the only thing that remained his own; everything else from the neck down had been taken from him by the Patriots. Even his lower jaw had been destroyed, replaced with a cybernetic component. More man than machine, it was a thought that stung deeper than any personal revelation.

The complex machinery that kept his mind active and separate from his body while it was being rebuilt allowed him to think freely as if he was back in his body. His thoughts could be monitored, tracked or even recorded but in these moments his comrades allowed him some peace. Some privacy, especially after the condition he had returned to them in.

It would only fuel Raiden's rage to know that they had peered into his thoughts and what shaky ground they managed, they wished to keep. It made them uncomfortable to look at Raiden when he had been brought back, the glazed hate in his barely functioning eye. They had an idea of the battle that had transpired from the condition of his body.

Washington could barely swallow the bile that rose seeing Raiden as defeated as he had been in those moments. The sound lashing having soured his mood and sharpened his mind even as it pushed from his humanity. If he had any left inside of him. He could barely stand to watch Raiden's body be upgraded and put back together like a sort of life-size doll. An expensive doll that tried to always be a step forward even as he took several steps back with every decision.

Without Raiden's conscious driving his body, he was motionless and seemed so much like a machine. The dark, tight wires that formed his thick bodily form and layered with thin, flexible armor to give him an agile shape. Doc had insisted Raiden maintain some sort of human functions even going as far as to synthetically include anatomical features that a real body would have. Washington was certain Raiden would simply turn them off, since he found most things that were once needs to simply be inconveniences during his vendetta.

He sighed into his coffee and put it away as he pushed from his seat to take a walk. It was too small in that room and Raiden's situation too gruesome to bear for much longer. It was too morbid a thing to dream of…too disturbing to imagine as anyone's reality. The taste of coffee turned to ash in his mouth as his steps faded in the silence of the hallways.

Raiden's mind was plundered in memories, avidly searching through the past to find something to hold onto. His wife. His son. It felt dirty to hang them in his ideals, to sully their innocence in the blood of those he slaughtered.

_They deserved to die…Didn't they?_

The thought was shoved from his mind as quickly as it flickered, having escaped any coherent notice as his mind replayed the battle he had lost over in his mind. He continued trying to find weakness, to find something that would give him the upper hand against Sam. His vision had blurred, had hazed in the rush of his own blood coloring his vision.

Now, he could see it clearly as if it had happened to someone else…As if it was a memory of another man, another time but still with the same result. The burning of a red blade cutting through flesh and bone as if it was as frail as a butterfly's wing. He could recall the taste of the air, the bitter tang of his artificial blood bursting from steel veins and filling his lungs.

Even with the memory of blood in his vision, he could still see that smirk. That condescending twitch at the corner of his lips, the mad gleam in dark eyes as the blade came down…No, went through him.

It had been so long since Raiden had felt pain, as in those moments his pain receptors had failed him. Every second of that burning, electric fire tearing through ligaments, through intricate and delicate wiring as in those seconds he dared to scream.

Those seconds, intimate and violating, he could barely remember the act, the strain of his voice reaching briefly, just briefly, above the roar of the train. The smirk had danced in Sam's eyes, a crazed fire that laughed without sound. It mocked him silently with every moment.

He wanted revenge. It burned in his mind intimately, setting his thoughts to fire even as he destroyed any chance to become rational. His mind darkly wandered to adding sensors into his blade, he wanted to know what it would feel like sliding his blade through Sam's body. He wanted to feel the metal edge cut through artificial bone and ligaments.

The monitors tracking his brain's activities began to speed up, alerting loudly as he continued to think about it. Plunging his sword again and again in the twitching mechanics of Sam's body, watching him squirm viciously with every jab. That smirking ass grimacing, howling in agony while his body twisted. Raiden could only focus, only think of the rush enveloping his mind at the thoughts and his readings began to escalate off the charts.

He wanted it. He would strike him down and savour every minute of it.


End file.
